There was an afternoon in the beginning of August where we were at the very end of whatever was left of the very end of whatever Us had become.... and the soundtrack to those few hours was a cd I had made for the first time we were at the end of whatever us was a few years before.
I straddled him on his lap and sang him all the words to snipits that seemed they were written for us. I started paying attention to the stories when natalie merchant was singing- I'm not gonna beg you for nothing, Im not gonna beg you for your love...
And he let me kiss that dimple on his chin, the bridge of his nose and my favorite- his eyelids. And when his hands were rested on my hips, I wanted to lean into him and fall asleep in the cradle of his arms. But I had to tell him the story of the time Jake walked into my dads with a bag of potatoes, ready for dinner- while I was singing seven years by natalie and at the last bridge of the song jake says- 'Damn, Ma girl is singing with a golden set of pipes...'
its funny, I tend to have soundtracks to major events- ill make a few cd's to get me thru something and sing thru my emotions... I can be pretty passive aggressive with my soundtracks.
I spent the greater part of the summer belting out songs like- Im not myslef when I'm with you, Amos lee- inspite of all the damage I have done, The be good tanyas- and deliberately listening to she's mine for the bulk of july in some twisted attempt to get used to her on him...
over the years I can remember some pretty impressive playlists that weve made love to. My favorite might have been the jeep in california when I was 5 months pregnant with Naz and Alice was playing a live in studio of the counting crows- August and everything after... in the back seat... parked behind my favorite restaurant... and we had our own place of course. I just like it outdoors.
August 6th- our last playlist will be the one that plays in my head the most... funny- that cd ended with let him fly- patty griffin covering the chicks.
He made love to me on the ottoman in the livingroom she calls hers now... and held me the rest of the afternoon... before one last round in the shower... the kids came home from school and that was it. we were done. except for I found that cd when I was looking for music today. Its called August. ( guess my life is the everything after...)
The songs always remember when.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
on my pot
It isnt a matter of saving the best for last. It is merely an oversite... and I should get used to it. Its just the way its going to go. And when I reflect on my motives I do understand I look in the wrong places to feel full. But my heart hurts no less from the deeper truth.
I just think I thought for a minute that they were the last person who would bring tears to my eyes. But as Ihave always been. I am my own undoing.
I will continue to show up all of me. I havent yet learned how to give any less- without sitting on my hands and fresh tape across my mouth.... bound to a chair, bolted to the floor... so why fight it.
But I had been so exhausted with being the giver- I needed a two way street. For once. But most people arent even in the same universe with me. So it isnt fair to hope for something genuine and open in return.
It was only good morning. But when you empower someone with love- its easy for them to feel more them and less you.
I had been determined not to cry. Ive been doing chipper me for a while now. So maybe it seems like I dont need much. Its just that I wont ask for what I need- I give what I need. I'll show you how to love me in how I love you. But people get good and full and enjoy laying in bed with the covers up to their chins in it... People do as much as they 'want' to do. Noone has to ask me for much. I tend to just anticipate the need and fill it.
He would say, 'I cant read your mind...' and he was right. But if someone shows up giving back even a percentage of what they receive- we can call it a day.
I'm just having a sad day. I woke up the other day and realized that I need to count on the little things-- and I lean on them to get thru my day- and then they dont show up. And I dont tell people what I need so they cant let me down...
Someday I'll trust someone enough to ask for it. The other day I was telling Jorge in all the years Ive known him I cant remember once that I actually needed him – right then- for something....
just now- I was balling my eyes out. I have no idea why. I just feel very empty and sad. Overwhelmed. Alley text me and said she loved me. Said I say the nicest things to her and I make her day.... And Now I'm putty. I needed that.
Its that its Thanksgiving on thursday and Its my only holiday besides Mothers day that I care about.... and it is going to look very different this year, all the way down to no Jake and I'm so damn sad. I miss him and the kids. Nooone in this world knows and loves me like he does.... and all the fucking saying I dont need to be in a room with him is bullshit! I need him! He si all the fmaily from home I have! And he is the one person that breaths where I dont have to talk.... he just knows....
every fuckin year at this time- I miss what I never knew of my mom. And this year I dont get jake's mom either.
What the fuck ever! Sometimes, like today- its not worth loving people the way I do. I shouldnt even say that out loud. I'm just on my fucking pot. And I hate being on my pot. I want life to be excellent... but I need a hug today.... I gueess it would help if I would let people know that. But I'm spoiled on a jake- where I was his last phone call of the day for the greater part of our years and I never had to say a word.... because he would just love it all away.
So every little thing is breaking my heart today. It all feels personal.... when really its just the emptiness. It takes so much energy to stay upbeat and to meet everyones needs... I just dont have time to relax into what I need.... and what I need isnt even on the table. Thats the truth of it.... and It wont be for a very long time.
Bleh.
I've ranted enough. This blog will self destruct in 72 hours.
I just think I thought for a minute that they were the last person who would bring tears to my eyes. But as Ihave always been. I am my own undoing.
I will continue to show up all of me. I havent yet learned how to give any less- without sitting on my hands and fresh tape across my mouth.... bound to a chair, bolted to the floor... so why fight it.
But I had been so exhausted with being the giver- I needed a two way street. For once. But most people arent even in the same universe with me. So it isnt fair to hope for something genuine and open in return.
It was only good morning. But when you empower someone with love- its easy for them to feel more them and less you.
I had been determined not to cry. Ive been doing chipper me for a while now. So maybe it seems like I dont need much. Its just that I wont ask for what I need- I give what I need. I'll show you how to love me in how I love you. But people get good and full and enjoy laying in bed with the covers up to their chins in it... People do as much as they 'want' to do. Noone has to ask me for much. I tend to just anticipate the need and fill it.
He would say, 'I cant read your mind...' and he was right. But if someone shows up giving back even a percentage of what they receive- we can call it a day.
I'm just having a sad day. I woke up the other day and realized that I need to count on the little things-- and I lean on them to get thru my day- and then they dont show up. And I dont tell people what I need so they cant let me down...
Someday I'll trust someone enough to ask for it. The other day I was telling Jorge in all the years Ive known him I cant remember once that I actually needed him – right then- for something....
just now- I was balling my eyes out. I have no idea why. I just feel very empty and sad. Overwhelmed. Alley text me and said she loved me. Said I say the nicest things to her and I make her day.... And Now I'm putty. I needed that.
Its that its Thanksgiving on thursday and Its my only holiday besides Mothers day that I care about.... and it is going to look very different this year, all the way down to no Jake and I'm so damn sad. I miss him and the kids. Nooone in this world knows and loves me like he does.... and all the fucking saying I dont need to be in a room with him is bullshit! I need him! He si all the fmaily from home I have! And he is the one person that breaths where I dont have to talk.... he just knows....
every fuckin year at this time- I miss what I never knew of my mom. And this year I dont get jake's mom either.
What the fuck ever! Sometimes, like today- its not worth loving people the way I do. I shouldnt even say that out loud. I'm just on my fucking pot. And I hate being on my pot. I want life to be excellent... but I need a hug today.... I gueess it would help if I would let people know that. But I'm spoiled on a jake- where I was his last phone call of the day for the greater part of our years and I never had to say a word.... because he would just love it all away.
So every little thing is breaking my heart today. It all feels personal.... when really its just the emptiness. It takes so much energy to stay upbeat and to meet everyones needs... I just dont have time to relax into what I need.... and what I need isnt even on the table. Thats the truth of it.... and It wont be for a very long time.
Bleh.
I've ranted enough. This blog will self destruct in 72 hours.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
pictures of annas visit
I put up the pictures from the Bonfire for anna's visit... There will be a few more pictures trickling in... I'll get them up soon. Anna has pictures from the Jason Mraz show and her with the girls and hole in the rock...
Jorge may have a few...
We had a great time and there arent enough pictures to show it off- but something tells me that everyone involved will hold the minutes very close for a very long time. Wherever we are the love seems to overflow...
Jorge may have a few...
We had a great time and there arent enough pictures to show it off- but something tells me that everyone involved will hold the minutes very close for a very long time. Wherever we are the love seems to overflow...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
fast
Shes taken to fasting. For the purpose of better knowing her full without the filling. And she smiles more... although I didnt know her when her mouth was empty.
She still looks for herself in the bottom of bottles. And it will take time for her to enjoy the quiet of singing birds on sunny afternoons and not want for the rain. Or at least feel more at home in it.
Her arms will still cradle your waist in mornings, early and dark only she will find words for her feelings -maybe put them on paper and the syllables she speaks will sing to my hips and the rise and fall of her breath will taunt my wonder.
but her betterment- is how I would rather love her.
And I'll watch her starve the pain till her joy reaches taller for a meal at my table and I will only hope that when she breaks her fast her union is sacred to herself.
Still the rise and fall of her breath -it taunts my wonder and I will have loved her better than friend and more than herself. And she will feast on her life,
insatiably kissed.
She still looks for herself in the bottom of bottles. And it will take time for her to enjoy the quiet of singing birds on sunny afternoons and not want for the rain. Or at least feel more at home in it.
Her arms will still cradle your waist in mornings, early and dark only she will find words for her feelings -maybe put them on paper and the syllables she speaks will sing to my hips and the rise and fall of her breath will taunt my wonder.
but her betterment- is how I would rather love her.
And I'll watch her starve the pain till her joy reaches taller for a meal at my table and I will only hope that when she breaks her fast her union is sacred to herself.
Still the rise and fall of her breath -it taunts my wonder and I will have loved her better than friend and more than herself. And she will feast on her life,
insatiably kissed.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
ive kissed more hearts than mouths
Ive kissed more hearts than mouths and it keeps me fuller. Ive fallen in love 10 times a day most days, for the greater years of my life. I dont easily let people love me- it will be my life's learning. And I'm ready.
I hold a lot of faces- just because I cant seem to keep myself from showing up 100% me-however flawed and uneven that may be. And I think sometimes its all too much. I know the emotion of sitting inside of how another feels can overwhelm me to tears and I often want to make love to peoples pain.
I hadnt kissed the mouth of someone new in more than 13 years and the opportunity has renewed my confidence. If I'd shut my mouth and use less words it might be best- but my mouth itches with an outpouring of gratitude for the meeting of minds and I spill with perceptions.
She is beautiful to indulge my awakening- and when she looks at me with one eye I want to kiss her in the sun. I'll practice keeping my mouth closed and my ears open. I placed my wants on the inside of her hand and everything she touches will reach for her belonging. I dont presume to be more than a piece of that mosaic- but it will glow red alongside her orange.
As she moves along her path she will become even more of the sun collecting each of her pieces and I will wear her on my wall as the art she promised- she will only have passed through- but the sun will remain.
Of all the parts one places their lips- I'm finding a heart may be my favorite- of course after the inside of the hand.
I hold a lot of faces- just because I cant seem to keep myself from showing up 100% me-however flawed and uneven that may be. And I think sometimes its all too much. I know the emotion of sitting inside of how another feels can overwhelm me to tears and I often want to make love to peoples pain.
I hadnt kissed the mouth of someone new in more than 13 years and the opportunity has renewed my confidence. If I'd shut my mouth and use less words it might be best- but my mouth itches with an outpouring of gratitude for the meeting of minds and I spill with perceptions.
She is beautiful to indulge my awakening- and when she looks at me with one eye I want to kiss her in the sun. I'll practice keeping my mouth closed and my ears open. I placed my wants on the inside of her hand and everything she touches will reach for her belonging. I dont presume to be more than a piece of that mosaic- but it will glow red alongside her orange.
As she moves along her path she will become even more of the sun collecting each of her pieces and I will wear her on my wall as the art she promised- she will only have passed through- but the sun will remain.
Of all the parts one places their lips- I'm finding a heart may be my favorite- of course after the inside of the hand.
apologies
I make apologies for my lips- they are frivolous with kindnesses from time to time- both without request or want.
And I have known my place long enough to second guess my thirst.
When you show up to something so big in who you are it is sometimes lost on the equation that you are alone for a reason.
And I have known my place long enough to second guess my thirst.
When you show up to something so big in who you are it is sometimes lost on the equation that you are alone for a reason.
Friday, October 10, 2008
the queen of kabul
Today I realized that no she would ever kiss his grandmothers hands -
and I was suddenly all healed up.
My content rolled in close to my pillow and
I could smell her hair.
There is no sweeter love than hers -
without words for the thousands of miles between our language
and the truth is- our language has always been love.
Perhaps the shes can sleep at night and
not know what they’re missing-
but I sleep holding all I’ve had.
And I cant wait till Sunday to hear the chirp of her sincere-
every day can be my Sunday.
Ive been loved by ‘The Queen of Kabul’.
The world blooms in a kiss hidden in the palms of her hands
~ amy jaan
and I was suddenly all healed up.
My content rolled in close to my pillow and
I could smell her hair.
There is no sweeter love than hers -
without words for the thousands of miles between our language
and the truth is- our language has always been love.
Perhaps the shes can sleep at night and
not know what they’re missing-
but I sleep holding all I’ve had.
And I cant wait till Sunday to hear the chirp of her sincere-
every day can be my Sunday.
Ive been loved by ‘The Queen of Kabul’.
The world blooms in a kiss hidden in the palms of her hands
~ amy jaan
sleep
My habit rested in his limbs and called it sleep-
But I knew it as home.
It chased me for hours into a light I found cold
My fear was I’d not know warm again.
He was a smell sweet like pain and everything clean
Morning teased in the distance
And our flirtation with the sun
masked our shame.
It continues to take more effort not to love him
Than loving him ever did.
-still
But I knew it as home.
It chased me for hours into a light I found cold
My fear was I’d not know warm again.
He was a smell sweet like pain and everything clean
Morning teased in the distance
And our flirtation with the sun
masked our shame.
It continues to take more effort not to love him
Than loving him ever did.
-still
ungrateful little...
Im listening to Pistachio by lisa hannigan and realizing- noone really hurts me quite as Miah does… and that’s really sad to me. I don’t need to explain all that I’ve done to be her mom- but last night she hurt me so bad I cried till 2 in the morning and woke up with snot in my hair.
What made my point?? Pistachio. That kid actually told me I havent been a big enough part of her life to have been an influence on her…. You all may know that Sunshine made his way out to Cali for a while. He gave Miah his stuff to keep for him while he found a place. Her dad went apeshit and threw it all out of the house and subsequently all of Cody’s stuff got stolen. I felt that he should understand that Miah has been taught to help her friends by my side of the family and it would only be natural for her to do so, although she should have asked…
Miah said I wasn’t a big enough part of her life for me to have influenced the kind of friend she is… Actually what she said was a bit more mean and hurtful than that- but that is the gist of it…
Then I listened to this song and I knew I am the one on the right…
The math is:
I gave her both ‘O’ and ‘9’ by Damien rice, Lisa sang on both albums, I took her to see Damien for her 16th birthday- Lisa had left the band and she wasn’t there… Miah loves Lisa and waited for her to tour…. Guess what, “WE” are going to see her together on November 16th- but I guess I’m not a big enough part of her life to influence her music either…
I’m not saying that it is about me… I just think that parents look for pieces of themselves in their kids. I happen to love her and am proud of the loving, creative person she is…. But I don’t know what I was thinking implying that I had anything at all to do with that. It’s not like I was really in her life when she was growing up.
OK, so now I’m crying again. I see why parents walk away from their kids. It is painful when they sum you up to nothing.
What made my point?? Pistachio. That kid actually told me I havent been a big enough part of her life to have been an influence on her…. You all may know that Sunshine made his way out to Cali for a while. He gave Miah his stuff to keep for him while he found a place. Her dad went apeshit and threw it all out of the house and subsequently all of Cody’s stuff got stolen. I felt that he should understand that Miah has been taught to help her friends by my side of the family and it would only be natural for her to do so, although she should have asked…
Miah said I wasn’t a big enough part of her life for me to have influenced the kind of friend she is… Actually what she said was a bit more mean and hurtful than that- but that is the gist of it…
Then I listened to this song and I knew I am the one on the right…
The math is:
I gave her both ‘O’ and ‘9’ by Damien rice, Lisa sang on both albums, I took her to see Damien for her 16th birthday- Lisa had left the band and she wasn’t there… Miah loves Lisa and waited for her to tour…. Guess what, “WE” are going to see her together on November 16th- but I guess I’m not a big enough part of her life to influence her music either…
I’m not saying that it is about me… I just think that parents look for pieces of themselves in their kids. I happen to love her and am proud of the loving, creative person she is…. But I don’t know what I was thinking implying that I had anything at all to do with that. It’s not like I was really in her life when she was growing up.
OK, so now I’m crying again. I see why parents walk away from their kids. It is painful when they sum you up to nothing.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
ringing in my ears
Sometimes I want to kiss your mouth
just to stop your voice
from r i n g i n g in my ears
If I slide my tongue between your teeth
I might end the e c h o of my want
It binds me
Swollen and with haste
Quick
To promises I don’t even speak the language of
And while I beckon it a lie
Just the s m o o t h of your h e l l o
Promises to teach
And I am at your feet
Readily the pupil to what you know
I hunger to learn the soft of your hands
And the shape of your fingers keeps me wet with hope
And as your palm gently parts anothers thighs
Ill rise into that arch
until I feel your breath to the left of my navel
And you fall onto the soft of my belly
Sharing a cigarette for the thanks of our unclean
Bent light betrays in the c r e e p i n g of the S U N
But I will kiss your mouth
Just to stop your voice from r i n g i n g in my ears.
-she
just to stop your voice
from r i n g i n g in my ears
If I slide my tongue between your teeth
I might end the e c h o of my want
It binds me
Swollen and with haste
Quick
To promises I don’t even speak the language of
And while I beckon it a lie
Just the s m o o t h of your h e l l o
Promises to teach
And I am at your feet
Readily the pupil to what you know
I hunger to learn the soft of your hands
And the shape of your fingers keeps me wet with hope
And as your palm gently parts anothers thighs
Ill rise into that arch
until I feel your breath to the left of my navel
And you fall onto the soft of my belly
Sharing a cigarette for the thanks of our unclean
Bent light betrays in the c r e e p i n g of the S U N
But I will kiss your mouth
Just to stop your voice from r i n g i n g in my ears.
-she
Sunday, October 5, 2008
my fair lady
Most days, inside my skin, I feel about 22- but when I think of him my bones ache like im going on 48... And it reminds me that life is fuller without than within the bound of his arms.
Lately my skin is kissed by even the slightest of wind and my hair dances in its song- and I know what it is now, to feel like you’ve opened your eyes for the first time.
I was chained to that want like a dog to a tree for so long I had forgotten the most tender parts of me- and I am sad to realize what I belted at sermon after sermon turned out to not be a thing even alike to love…
Love is what im doing now.
Even after the apologies are made, the responsibility has yet to feel like Ive taken enough- and I know its just the residual of the sickness. Its only more of still looking to somehow meet the efforts of enough.
‘Ima a good girl, I am…’ Liza said to the Professor, but it wasn’t him she was trying to convince, it was herself.
It wont be long before I have my own place again… and I’ll be making new rituals that are clean of what was. But my heart wont lie to you or even me and say I don’t still love him.
Still will remain.
Because- all the wrong I went about it was the best I knew. I come from a dirt road, barefoot and more than a little mangled… and I promise what I gave was sweeter than anything I’d ever been given.
And that might be what pisses me off the most… I made it out of that place alive… but I wasn’t living. What a waste of fucking time. I’m 35 years old and I wasted my purpose on my habits.
‘Ima a good girl, I am…
Lately my skin is kissed by even the slightest of wind and my hair dances in its song- and I know what it is now, to feel like you’ve opened your eyes for the first time.
I was chained to that want like a dog to a tree for so long I had forgotten the most tender parts of me- and I am sad to realize what I belted at sermon after sermon turned out to not be a thing even alike to love…
Love is what im doing now.
Even after the apologies are made, the responsibility has yet to feel like Ive taken enough- and I know its just the residual of the sickness. Its only more of still looking to somehow meet the efforts of enough.
‘Ima a good girl, I am…’ Liza said to the Professor, but it wasn’t him she was trying to convince, it was herself.
It wont be long before I have my own place again… and I’ll be making new rituals that are clean of what was. But my heart wont lie to you or even me and say I don’t still love him.
Still will remain.
Because- all the wrong I went about it was the best I knew. I come from a dirt road, barefoot and more than a little mangled… and I promise what I gave was sweeter than anything I’d ever been given.
And that might be what pisses me off the most… I made it out of that place alive… but I wasn’t living. What a waste of fucking time. I’m 35 years old and I wasted my purpose on my habits.
‘Ima a good girl, I am…
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
in reality, im gon be who i be- jill scott
I was just listening to ‘hate on me’ by jill…. And I realized- the truth is- on either side, the story is the same. We could talk all day long about how the other one didn’t give us what we needed- and the other one of us is telling the same exact story. I was no more what he needed either. And he feels just as wounded, only by different thing, for different reasons. And I promise, he can tell just as passionate of a story and convince his people that ‘he’ is right.
I don’t need to be right anymore. It just hurts. We hurt each other- because we were hell bent on hurting ourselves. Its funny how we find the person who will reconfirm our lack of value for ourselves. Proving that we believed them- whoever they were…. For me…. I had a long line of people who tried to suffocate me with whole pages of their rhetoric. I think for him, he just bucked a culture that told him the individual he was was tainted for not following their lead… and hooking up with me, someone he thought was beneath him, it made him feel bigger and better.
We call things love that love doesn’t even exist inside of… & when we are trying to patch up our wounds- we see the other person as the monster we need to protect ourselves from- but we really need to pick ourselves up- its us that did the wounding.
I could tell you all day long the investment I made- all the ways he hurt me not returning my efforts. But he owed me nothing. People do as much as they want to do. He didn’t want to contribute the way I had. And that was my queue to leave. So, I have some motives to evaluate. Why was I putting so much in? Was it so he would feel like he owed me something? Damn, we have some destructive habits don’t we?
I cant hate him. I think he needs to hate me. Hes repeating history right now uncannily close to our story- & I’m nervous to watch. It makes me sick to my stomach to think these kids have to go through all of this over and over and over until we figure it out.
Jesus, I am trying to figure out my part. I finally get what people mean -that I should be so busy working on me that I don’t have time to think on what anyone else needs to be doing- All of a sudden- being pissed at them is gone- because I have enough in my own life to give my energy to.
Now I’m only a couple of weeks into this new feeling- so be a little patient with me. I want accountability- but I am no saint. I’m sure I will have streaks of jealousy- she stole my life after all. ( I know, I know- no more feeling that way. He gave it away years ago. I should have turned on my heels then. This is really about the way I handle things and not what he did or didnt do. I just have those thoughts sneak in still. Lol)
So, seeing my patterns now- makes life much easier. Its far less energy to let things go and not give more than I get. I was killing myself to invest in someone else. Using that energy for me is like an epiphany. Unattractive huh- How open I am.
Hey- in a few years life is going to feel so fresh and effortless… I’ll just be barefoot in my garden… pulling weeds and watering tomatos and I will have learned what AughaJaan came into my life to teach me. He loves me enough to stay in my heart even today. Can you believe the pain we have all put on his heart. I owe him too much for that. Noone in my life has loved me as big as Augha. I don’t know if you understand what he gave me. I cant even find words for it. I just knew when I would sit with him, that no questions asked, he loved me and believed in me. I was enough.
I’m looking forward to returning that to his great grandchildren. And something tells me harboring any resentments with his grandson would not honor his heart in the least. I never saw him hold a single grudge.
I don’t need to be right anymore. It just hurts. We hurt each other- because we were hell bent on hurting ourselves. Its funny how we find the person who will reconfirm our lack of value for ourselves. Proving that we believed them- whoever they were…. For me…. I had a long line of people who tried to suffocate me with whole pages of their rhetoric. I think for him, he just bucked a culture that told him the individual he was was tainted for not following their lead… and hooking up with me, someone he thought was beneath him, it made him feel bigger and better.
We call things love that love doesn’t even exist inside of… & when we are trying to patch up our wounds- we see the other person as the monster we need to protect ourselves from- but we really need to pick ourselves up- its us that did the wounding.
I could tell you all day long the investment I made- all the ways he hurt me not returning my efforts. But he owed me nothing. People do as much as they want to do. He didn’t want to contribute the way I had. And that was my queue to leave. So, I have some motives to evaluate. Why was I putting so much in? Was it so he would feel like he owed me something? Damn, we have some destructive habits don’t we?
I cant hate him. I think he needs to hate me. Hes repeating history right now uncannily close to our story- & I’m nervous to watch. It makes me sick to my stomach to think these kids have to go through all of this over and over and over until we figure it out.
Jesus, I am trying to figure out my part. I finally get what people mean -that I should be so busy working on me that I don’t have time to think on what anyone else needs to be doing- All of a sudden- being pissed at them is gone- because I have enough in my own life to give my energy to.
Now I’m only a couple of weeks into this new feeling- so be a little patient with me. I want accountability- but I am no saint. I’m sure I will have streaks of jealousy- she stole my life after all. ( I know, I know- no more feeling that way. He gave it away years ago. I should have turned on my heels then. This is really about the way I handle things and not what he did or didnt do. I just have those thoughts sneak in still. Lol)
So, seeing my patterns now- makes life much easier. Its far less energy to let things go and not give more than I get. I was killing myself to invest in someone else. Using that energy for me is like an epiphany. Unattractive huh- How open I am.
Hey- in a few years life is going to feel so fresh and effortless… I’ll just be barefoot in my garden… pulling weeds and watering tomatos and I will have learned what AughaJaan came into my life to teach me. He loves me enough to stay in my heart even today. Can you believe the pain we have all put on his heart. I owe him too much for that. Noone in my life has loved me as big as Augha. I don’t know if you understand what he gave me. I cant even find words for it. I just knew when I would sit with him, that no questions asked, he loved me and believed in me. I was enough.
I’m looking forward to returning that to his great grandchildren. And something tells me harboring any resentments with his grandson would not honor his heart in the least. I never saw him hold a single grudge.
Friday, September 26, 2008
stills
I smile when he calls them- I love how they run for the bed and snuggle up in the covers and cuddle up to the phone… Its medicine. When they were babies and he would fall asleep with them on his chest- I would watch them sleeping and the snapshots are big life size portraits in my brain. He would shower with them and hand them out to me all slippery…
A lot of what you love about a person is those snapshots sometimes… of things like the way he cried when they handed him Naz- No before they handed him Naz- his tears when I was 5 months pregnant and my water broke and they were taking me up to Christiana Hospital and Id had already been thru that with Elijah and him just seeing me cry made him cave. Or when I think of the wrinkle in his nose when he would do the ‘sniffy snooty’ with them and they would just giggle like it was the best trick ever invented. They were so easy and he was their favorite person on earth… He is still their favorite person on earth.
There were plenty of stills for me to close my eyes to over those years- Him coaching their soccer or carving pumpkins at their school… One of the saddest is when he waited in the car outside the clinic when they told me I couldnt have Addy… Nazy sleeping inside that daddy cuddle that belongs between fathers and daughters of girlies under 2... sweaty hair stuck to the face and that wet slobber spot on his shirt the size of her head, times 2.
And I have visions of terrible things- like the condom wrapper that fell out of his robe last year when I was stepping into his bed- or the shame on his face nights 1 thru 17 when I waited up for him and he just didn’t care to come home- she was more interesting than my heart was valuable. And thank God- I didn’t have to see his face when we said our goodbyes…
I went kicking and screaming, when I had hoped I would go with grace, peace and love. That boy has some images in his brain… and sadly- me crying, pacing, devastated- will replace the visions of me painting his house or telling him thank you for it - him standing on a latter and my mouth finding his warm… I guess when you over stay it like we did- you lose the 3am- passionately poised- nursing mama cowgirl moments and his grandfather kissing my hands, my hands. And god I had hoped the countless times we were up to our elbows in good music, even better food, the worlds best people and laughing- happy kids were the pictures that were going to keep him up at night.
But he chose to hate me instead.
And no matter how hard I try- its still EFFORT for me to hate him. I wish it was natural. I wish it was effortless.. But its just impossible.
So plan B has become to protect myself. Because I’m powerless to loving him. Every time I look at those kids- I see him wrapped up in us like pretzels…grubby, long hair; a little CSNY; and my head fits right under his chin and his breath is still my lullaby.
I just have to avoid him. I’m 2 states away and seeing them run for the phone and cuddle up in bed with him on the line just makes me come undone. He loves them. I have to get past this soon. They need me to. Watching them love him makes it even harder sometimes. It reminds me of what isn’t mine anymore.
A lot of what you love about a person is those snapshots sometimes… of things like the way he cried when they handed him Naz- No before they handed him Naz- his tears when I was 5 months pregnant and my water broke and they were taking me up to Christiana Hospital and Id had already been thru that with Elijah and him just seeing me cry made him cave. Or when I think of the wrinkle in his nose when he would do the ‘sniffy snooty’ with them and they would just giggle like it was the best trick ever invented. They were so easy and he was their favorite person on earth… He is still their favorite person on earth.
There were plenty of stills for me to close my eyes to over those years- Him coaching their soccer or carving pumpkins at their school… One of the saddest is when he waited in the car outside the clinic when they told me I couldnt have Addy… Nazy sleeping inside that daddy cuddle that belongs between fathers and daughters of girlies under 2... sweaty hair stuck to the face and that wet slobber spot on his shirt the size of her head, times 2.
And I have visions of terrible things- like the condom wrapper that fell out of his robe last year when I was stepping into his bed- or the shame on his face nights 1 thru 17 when I waited up for him and he just didn’t care to come home- she was more interesting than my heart was valuable. And thank God- I didn’t have to see his face when we said our goodbyes…
I went kicking and screaming, when I had hoped I would go with grace, peace and love. That boy has some images in his brain… and sadly- me crying, pacing, devastated- will replace the visions of me painting his house or telling him thank you for it - him standing on a latter and my mouth finding his warm… I guess when you over stay it like we did- you lose the 3am- passionately poised- nursing mama cowgirl moments and his grandfather kissing my hands, my hands. And god I had hoped the countless times we were up to our elbows in good music, even better food, the worlds best people and laughing- happy kids were the pictures that were going to keep him up at night.
But he chose to hate me instead.
And no matter how hard I try- its still EFFORT for me to hate him. I wish it was natural. I wish it was effortless.. But its just impossible.
So plan B has become to protect myself. Because I’m powerless to loving him. Every time I look at those kids- I see him wrapped up in us like pretzels…grubby, long hair; a little CSNY; and my head fits right under his chin and his breath is still my lullaby.
I just have to avoid him. I’m 2 states away and seeing them run for the phone and cuddle up in bed with him on the line just makes me come undone. He loves them. I have to get past this soon. They need me to. Watching them love him makes it even harder sometimes. It reminds me of what isn’t mine anymore.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
our house is a very very very fine house- CSNY
It takes time to honor the depth and honesty in which you’ve loved and contributed to someone…. And sometimes, to do it right, you can’t just peel out of the yard in reverse, while the house burns to the ground; racing down that old dirt road with a cloud of dust behind you. There is a respect that commitment requires.
I’m sure you’ve seen the smoke, it was smoldering for years before the flames consumed everything… He limped away leaning on the ear of a damsel who thought she was in distress- don’t think she realized how well he plays victim. I hear they don’t come up much for air- but when the dizzy of his lies subsides, and she wipes the smudges from the glass- the clearly she sees will open her eyes to the ‘it takes two’ of it all.
I understand that neither of us could clap with one hand. I’m content in a home full of reflections for the forward of this journey. Its going to take time to sift through these ashes. He is no more a monster in all of this than I have been.
I was in his arms 2 weeks before I left, kissing the corner of his mouth and he said, “I’ve hurt enough…” and my immediate thought was “loving me shouldn’t have to hurt…” and I made love to him like it was the last time. (But it never is.) He was in her arms the next few days and I laid awake thinking- ‘You haven’t hurt near enough to equal this pain.’
But the truth is- we have nearly killed each other calling it love. For what? To what end? To watch our 3 girls re-play what we called love in their own lives. And that would be our Karma. A consequence I am not prepared to live with.
So I choose time. I may be 13 years and 3 kids too late, but I just want to stop in my tracks and grow the fuck up! I want to offer them an example of an individual that is strong, full of love, with a life that amounts to amazing- not just SOMETHING. I know the love I have in me. I have a chance to teach it to them in a way that honors them.
I cant change Sam and his inability to be alone and therefore he brings a different girl into my kids life every time the sheets are empty- but If two people are at war- it only takes 1 to stop it. I can be that one. The way to start is understanding that the problem isn’t the flavor if the week. Its been that I’m still in it enough to care about the flavor of the week.
Just so you know- the Introduction to My Life Party Kicks off Sunday November 16th, 2008 - 4pm. The cost is $40 a head and RSVP by October 4th.
I’m sure you’ve seen the smoke, it was smoldering for years before the flames consumed everything… He limped away leaning on the ear of a damsel who thought she was in distress- don’t think she realized how well he plays victim. I hear they don’t come up much for air- but when the dizzy of his lies subsides, and she wipes the smudges from the glass- the clearly she sees will open her eyes to the ‘it takes two’ of it all.
I understand that neither of us could clap with one hand. I’m content in a home full of reflections for the forward of this journey. Its going to take time to sift through these ashes. He is no more a monster in all of this than I have been.
I was in his arms 2 weeks before I left, kissing the corner of his mouth and he said, “I’ve hurt enough…” and my immediate thought was “loving me shouldn’t have to hurt…” and I made love to him like it was the last time. (But it never is.) He was in her arms the next few days and I laid awake thinking- ‘You haven’t hurt near enough to equal this pain.’
But the truth is- we have nearly killed each other calling it love. For what? To what end? To watch our 3 girls re-play what we called love in their own lives. And that would be our Karma. A consequence I am not prepared to live with.
So I choose time. I may be 13 years and 3 kids too late, but I just want to stop in my tracks and grow the fuck up! I want to offer them an example of an individual that is strong, full of love, with a life that amounts to amazing- not just SOMETHING. I know the love I have in me. I have a chance to teach it to them in a way that honors them.
I cant change Sam and his inability to be alone and therefore he brings a different girl into my kids life every time the sheets are empty- but If two people are at war- it only takes 1 to stop it. I can be that one. The way to start is understanding that the problem isn’t the flavor if the week. Its been that I’m still in it enough to care about the flavor of the week.
Just so you know- the Introduction to My Life Party Kicks off Sunday November 16th, 2008 - 4pm. The cost is $40 a head and RSVP by October 4th.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
domesticated
I hadn’t ever paid attention to how unattractive being the domestic type is in the perspective of a man. At the tail end of June, I was camping in Payson with My Pal Pete. Now, Pete, he wasn’t trying to leave that impression. He was just making conversation about different women in different friends of his lives and how months or years into the relationship, Domestic is kind of what they settled into- and that settling sort of summed them up.
Until that walk on the rim that day, I had considered my efficiency in the home one of my finer qualities- ( some of my other finer qualities are not to be mentioned on blogs) and I was rather proud of things like my French Onion Soup or my baked potato in a sock trick to ward off an ailing ear infection in a crying baby… Nope, ends up all that stuff is rather unattractive to the greater part of the male persuasion.
That sucks. The house I keep, the dinner I put on the table, the 2am advice on ear infections and always being available at every party in attendance, or not, to manage everyones kids- it had become who I am. I was vying for Martha Stuarts job- and I was glad to be in her dust.
Jake enjoys confidence in a woman. Sometimes down right cockiness. But what I’m confident in isn’t business or someones bottom line- I don’t know about dividends or the rules at office parties. I’m so unpolished that Sam was embarrassed to take me to his work parties all those years. He would leave me home telling me wives weren’t invited.
I’m just not your girl for coffee talk. Really. I am too passionate about most things to have some passive opinion about either individuality or family- history or my take on where we are headed as a country or the world… you really cant take me anywhere.
Ive noticed about myself lately that I’m not as well read as I’d like to be and that probably has a lot to do with the fact that dinner- for the entire neighborhood- really is at 5- and you can believe it will be made from scratch… with some fly by the seat of my pants secret recipe- and I wont have shaved my legs to serve it either.
Id like to re-direct my energies to a more sexy line if living- but I just cant bring myself to abandon the parts of me I like the most… And feeding all those people is my favorite part of myself.
Now Pete wasn’t calling me unsexy… we have too much fun when we’re together for that… he just showed me the other side of the coin. “Not every thing is for every body” as Jill Scott says… I’ll stick with single then. I just wont be able to force myself into that other box.
Until that walk on the rim that day, I had considered my efficiency in the home one of my finer qualities- ( some of my other finer qualities are not to be mentioned on blogs) and I was rather proud of things like my French Onion Soup or my baked potato in a sock trick to ward off an ailing ear infection in a crying baby… Nope, ends up all that stuff is rather unattractive to the greater part of the male persuasion.
That sucks. The house I keep, the dinner I put on the table, the 2am advice on ear infections and always being available at every party in attendance, or not, to manage everyones kids- it had become who I am. I was vying for Martha Stuarts job- and I was glad to be in her dust.
Jake enjoys confidence in a woman. Sometimes down right cockiness. But what I’m confident in isn’t business or someones bottom line- I don’t know about dividends or the rules at office parties. I’m so unpolished that Sam was embarrassed to take me to his work parties all those years. He would leave me home telling me wives weren’t invited.
I’m just not your girl for coffee talk. Really. I am too passionate about most things to have some passive opinion about either individuality or family- history or my take on where we are headed as a country or the world… you really cant take me anywhere.
Ive noticed about myself lately that I’m not as well read as I’d like to be and that probably has a lot to do with the fact that dinner- for the entire neighborhood- really is at 5- and you can believe it will be made from scratch… with some fly by the seat of my pants secret recipe- and I wont have shaved my legs to serve it either.
Id like to re-direct my energies to a more sexy line if living- but I just cant bring myself to abandon the parts of me I like the most… And feeding all those people is my favorite part of myself.
Now Pete wasn’t calling me unsexy… we have too much fun when we’re together for that… he just showed me the other side of the coin. “Not every thing is for every body” as Jill Scott says… I’ll stick with single then. I just wont be able to force myself into that other box.
Friday, September 19, 2008
beauty
He justified his betrayal in a quip so sharp it stung to my bones. Made me itch from the inside with need to relieve the sting.
" but you always said you wanted me to be with a beautiful woman."
There are right answers to those sorts of things when it comes from the mouth of a woman and honestly the right answer was- "Ive spent the last 13 years in the arms of a beautiful woman..."
Instead, he felt slighted. Like in the diviing up of portions, he was short changed in the partner department. And where I might have summed up my beauty to the times he lay behind me while I was nursing our children- he was more afflicted by his embarrassment that I wasnt a girl he could be proud to take to the club.
I ripped into her after he spoke those words to me.
"But she isnt a beautiful woman. You had me Sam. Me. My skin. The love I give to your family. Learning your language. Cooking the food. The mother Ive been to these kids. The respect I had to EARN from your grandmother because I was a foreigner to your family. You had my love. MY LOVE. And you call HER a beautiful woman? She is plain. Young. Insecure. She doesnt know Who She Is. God, she doesnt stand tall and she puts herself down in front of strangers. She has bad skin and yes a great behind- but she leaves her kid alone all night- to party with you- keeping you from your kids. And Sam, She doesnt have passion. But you call her beautiful over me? You spent 13 years telling me I wasnt your equal and you ask for my blessing to be with her... You ask for my blessing and then you fuck ME. again. and again. and again... the same week. While she is the beautiful woman you want to be with and you would sum me up by the end of the month as a parasite.
So enjoy your beautiful woman. A beautiful woman is what I've always wanted for you. I'm glad you've finally met your equal. I'm sure you'll make bliss together."
And I think he is enjoying her... It aches from time to time- the way he let his children go for her. And there is a kinder woman out there who would let him forget it- but not me. I send him packages from his kids in heart envelopes and pictures of them sleeping in their beds... not to be kind to him... To remind him what he gave up for her.
In all of my childrens lives I have continuously been complimented on the amazing people they are and I am cocky with the taking of the credit. Sam has played a very small hands on part with his children. He actually asked for a divorce when I asked him to work less nights so they could have more of his time.
Maybe he'll give it to her... He plays house with her son, Carson.
In my world there are very few people I dont find beautiful and sadly- perhaps fueled by jealousy- she is not someone on my beautiful list... People are on it for all sorts of reasons, the way they love their kids or community, sunglasses in their hair... or flawless skin at 67... some of them have receding hairlines and several are full of curves... But each of them glow with confidence.
His attraction to her is how small she is... in expectation, mind, effort and personality. I guess he figures he has room to mold her. She's young enough to not express abrasion the way I do. I'm just too far along in the game to let the bullshit slide.
It still stings that I stayed so long with a man who was embarrassed of me and uses my own heart against me in request of my blessing. I do want him to be both with his equal and a beautiful woman... and while she may be his small minded equal- that doesnt qualify her to the honors of beauty.
Thank god, that remains in the eye of the beholder.
" but you always said you wanted me to be with a beautiful woman."
There are right answers to those sorts of things when it comes from the mouth of a woman and honestly the right answer was- "Ive spent the last 13 years in the arms of a beautiful woman..."
Instead, he felt slighted. Like in the diviing up of portions, he was short changed in the partner department. And where I might have summed up my beauty to the times he lay behind me while I was nursing our children- he was more afflicted by his embarrassment that I wasnt a girl he could be proud to take to the club.
I ripped into her after he spoke those words to me.
"But she isnt a beautiful woman. You had me Sam. Me. My skin. The love I give to your family. Learning your language. Cooking the food. The mother Ive been to these kids. The respect I had to EARN from your grandmother because I was a foreigner to your family. You had my love. MY LOVE. And you call HER a beautiful woman? She is plain. Young. Insecure. She doesnt know Who She Is. God, she doesnt stand tall and she puts herself down in front of strangers. She has bad skin and yes a great behind- but she leaves her kid alone all night- to party with you- keeping you from your kids. And Sam, She doesnt have passion. But you call her beautiful over me? You spent 13 years telling me I wasnt your equal and you ask for my blessing to be with her... You ask for my blessing and then you fuck ME. again. and again. and again... the same week. While she is the beautiful woman you want to be with and you would sum me up by the end of the month as a parasite.
So enjoy your beautiful woman. A beautiful woman is what I've always wanted for you. I'm glad you've finally met your equal. I'm sure you'll make bliss together."
And I think he is enjoying her... It aches from time to time- the way he let his children go for her. And there is a kinder woman out there who would let him forget it- but not me. I send him packages from his kids in heart envelopes and pictures of them sleeping in their beds... not to be kind to him... To remind him what he gave up for her.
In all of my childrens lives I have continuously been complimented on the amazing people they are and I am cocky with the taking of the credit. Sam has played a very small hands on part with his children. He actually asked for a divorce when I asked him to work less nights so they could have more of his time.
Maybe he'll give it to her... He plays house with her son, Carson.
In my world there are very few people I dont find beautiful and sadly- perhaps fueled by jealousy- she is not someone on my beautiful list... People are on it for all sorts of reasons, the way they love their kids or community, sunglasses in their hair... or flawless skin at 67... some of them have receding hairlines and several are full of curves... But each of them glow with confidence.
His attraction to her is how small she is... in expectation, mind, effort and personality. I guess he figures he has room to mold her. She's young enough to not express abrasion the way I do. I'm just too far along in the game to let the bullshit slide.
It still stings that I stayed so long with a man who was embarrassed of me and uses my own heart against me in request of my blessing. I do want him to be both with his equal and a beautiful woman... and while she may be his small minded equal- that doesnt qualify her to the honors of beauty.
Thank god, that remains in the eye of the beholder.
Mark my words.
Even if its an absence of my voice-
in every room you are in you will feel a little alone without me.
And in the spaces of breath where we fill wants bill,
you will shudder with remembering why you always stayed.
I heard it in your voice,
between our words,
just yesterday.
and
I filled you.
Again.
Its why you stay away- from even our children.
Sometimes I imagine the bargain you made must have been signed in blood-
and I wonder who's we spilled for your goodbye...
Its often-
when we are in a room-
that i catch you holding your breath as if to practice for my exit.
it wont be long now before rooms will overflow with how i feel
you will reach for my ghost in her arms
and the air will be thick with gone.
in every room you are in you will feel a little alone without me.
And in the spaces of breath where we fill wants bill,
you will shudder with remembering why you always stayed.
I heard it in your voice,
between our words,
just yesterday.
and
I filled you.
Again.
Its why you stay away- from even our children.
Sometimes I imagine the bargain you made must have been signed in blood-
and I wonder who's we spilled for your goodbye...
Its often-
when we are in a room-
that i catch you holding your breath as if to practice for my exit.
it wont be long now before rooms will overflow with how i feel
you will reach for my ghost in her arms
and the air will be thick with gone.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Post year 1.
He used to tell me he didn’t wear his wedding ring at work because it would get caught on the trays. This was back when he waited tables… and even after he was done waiting tables he never wore his ring again… not since 1998. And I bought it.
Even after I went in the restaurant one day - and a server- her name was Heather, Heather was cute as a button. Petite. Short blonde hair. I was 4 months out of my last baby and not feeling very perky… Now Heather, she comes up to inform me- “No matter what you might hear, I’m not having an affair with your husband, we’re just best friends. " That’s funny. I thought ‘I’ was his best friend. But, I let it roll off my back.
When I look back on that day now- I realize, I wait tables, divorced, but still wearing his wedding ring- just cause I like how it feels on my hand- and it NEVER gets caught on a tray. Not once. In fact, its actually very nice every time the wood grain slides over it and I get to remember that its there.
I got 2 compliments on it today alone and I only had 3 tables. It’s a nice and heavy, chunky square silver ring that I got as a set for our 1 year anniversary. Mine I outgrew a while ago. His is mostly too big and it spins around my finger. But with it, I can flirt and people think I’m harmless and married. I am harmless just not so married.
He told me once that he knew within a year we had made a mistake- and the love was gone. He claims to have stayed together for the children. Math would suggest he had other motivations. I mean, he did wait until 6 months after his 'citizenship' to ask for a divorce. he wasnt so worried about the children by then.
I dont agree with staying together for children. But it has taken me waaaaaaay a loong time to live doing what is best for my girls to see. And I'm sure wearing this ring is one of those things I need to get past- which is why ts on my thumb most of the time.
I am a person who speaks deliberately. Sure, I kid and I dont make sense too much of the time... But people are not often confused about how i feel for them. I want to meet a man who speaks in a straight line. That would be my equal.
( Gemini's need not sign up.)
Even after I went in the restaurant one day - and a server- her name was Heather, Heather was cute as a button. Petite. Short blonde hair. I was 4 months out of my last baby and not feeling very perky… Now Heather, she comes up to inform me- “No matter what you might hear, I’m not having an affair with your husband, we’re just best friends. " That’s funny. I thought ‘I’ was his best friend. But, I let it roll off my back.
When I look back on that day now- I realize, I wait tables, divorced, but still wearing his wedding ring- just cause I like how it feels on my hand- and it NEVER gets caught on a tray. Not once. In fact, its actually very nice every time the wood grain slides over it and I get to remember that its there.
I got 2 compliments on it today alone and I only had 3 tables. It’s a nice and heavy, chunky square silver ring that I got as a set for our 1 year anniversary. Mine I outgrew a while ago. His is mostly too big and it spins around my finger. But with it, I can flirt and people think I’m harmless and married. I am harmless just not so married.
He told me once that he knew within a year we had made a mistake- and the love was gone. He claims to have stayed together for the children. Math would suggest he had other motivations. I mean, he did wait until 6 months after his 'citizenship' to ask for a divorce. he wasnt so worried about the children by then.
I dont agree with staying together for children. But it has taken me waaaaaaay a loong time to live doing what is best for my girls to see. And I'm sure wearing this ring is one of those things I need to get past- which is why ts on my thumb most of the time.
I am a person who speaks deliberately. Sure, I kid and I dont make sense too much of the time... But people are not often confused about how i feel for them. I want to meet a man who speaks in a straight line. That would be my equal.
( Gemini's need not sign up.)
Monday, September 15, 2008
cause im a w-o-m-a-n
Tonight was the first time I’ve cooked in a few weeks- Corinne Bailey Rae playing in the background and some iced tea brewing just to layer all the notes with home… and I finally feel like a part of ‘me’ again.
This not cooking for my kids and Trin and Phil and whatever neighbor follows their nose- it bucks who I am and it depresses me, much like Scottsdale did.
People grow up and become more of who they are… the more I become myself- that person needs a full table, whether we know the people or not- and the lovin- it has to be big lovin, between people who can handle how big it gets.
Last night, a friend of mine told me- “ you know you're better off without that guy, he's not a man until he can be confident in what he loves, but you Amy, you are a woman- you need a MAN.”
I thought all day on what that means to me. What a relationship of equals would look like- and the first thing I realized is, I would meet this man at my own table.
Jorge had me sit down and watch “Under the Tuscan Sun” last year; and wanted us to watch it again this summer when I was leaving. I go back to that house and her energy several times a day. ( If I only had her legs.)
This next year my life is going to evolve into “ The Broken Road” times 3... And a little at a time I am going to claim pieces of my life I didn’t know were missing. A job I love, a house I can paint and remodel with my friends -where everyone we could ever dream of knowing will have a place to sleep and a plate at the table and the music- god we are going to climb trees to watch Lisa Hannigan- while we have more front row seats to Sunshine and Ms. Spring… and
it wont be long before I don’t even remember what he looks like when he’s walking away…
So put in your requests- there will be French Onion Soup for Christmas and I’ll sing barefoot for a hug any night of the week. I am a woman confident in what I love. I want to share it. No, I overflow with the ‘need’ to share it-
to share me.
This not cooking for my kids and Trin and Phil and whatever neighbor follows their nose- it bucks who I am and it depresses me, much like Scottsdale did.
People grow up and become more of who they are… the more I become myself- that person needs a full table, whether we know the people or not- and the lovin- it has to be big lovin, between people who can handle how big it gets.
Last night, a friend of mine told me- “ you know you're better off without that guy, he's not a man until he can be confident in what he loves, but you Amy, you are a woman- you need a MAN.”
I thought all day on what that means to me. What a relationship of equals would look like- and the first thing I realized is, I would meet this man at my own table.
Jorge had me sit down and watch “Under the Tuscan Sun” last year; and wanted us to watch it again this summer when I was leaving. I go back to that house and her energy several times a day. ( If I only had her legs.)
This next year my life is going to evolve into “ The Broken Road” times 3... And a little at a time I am going to claim pieces of my life I didn’t know were missing. A job I love, a house I can paint and remodel with my friends -where everyone we could ever dream of knowing will have a place to sleep and a plate at the table and the music- god we are going to climb trees to watch Lisa Hannigan- while we have more front row seats to Sunshine and Ms. Spring… and
it wont be long before I don’t even remember what he looks like when he’s walking away…
So put in your requests- there will be French Onion Soup for Christmas and I’ll sing barefoot for a hug any night of the week. I am a woman confident in what I love. I want to share it. No, I overflow with the ‘need’ to share it-
to share me.
Friday, September 12, 2008
the world
Ive been reduced to tears.
I just read a quote- " When you're laying your head on a guys chest- he has the world." Well. Ive missed a lot of life I think- because Ive never been a guys world. Hm? I dont think I've been more sad or embarrassed or empty in a very long time. I was reaching for his warm- to crawl inside him and fill him somehow- but I only left him empty... and I could have sworn that I love larger than life. But I dont. And that wasnt something I was ever prepared to know about myself.
A woman looked at a picture of him with the girls the other day and just says, "He was never meant to be yours... " It was that easy for her. And I'll let go in time. And she, she is his world when she is on his chest... without nursing his children or loving his Grandmother or holding him while he slept, counting his breaths... not knowing if he would still have air in the morning. She will just be enough.
But me, I held the world when I had him in my arms... and I cant sleep at night for trying not to taste him. I fall asleep trying to imagine I'm in another mans arms- I tell him about my day and ask him about his kids... he whispers me the stories of their hearts, bigger than continents and we laugh a little... but by 3 am I'm back in his arms and alone. If I could just wake up 1 day a week and not smell him on my skin it would be a gift... But every night, i find him in my dreams.
I doubt I haunt him- not because I'm forgettable, but because he doesnt invest. And I sold myself that cheap for that long.
That night in the back yard, on the air mattress, under the stars- candles burnt to the ground... I lost myself as an individual. I dont know how to un-fuse from that abandon. I just dont know whats left of me that doesnt love him.
I just read a quote- " When you're laying your head on a guys chest- he has the world." Well. Ive missed a lot of life I think- because Ive never been a guys world. Hm? I dont think I've been more sad or embarrassed or empty in a very long time. I was reaching for his warm- to crawl inside him and fill him somehow- but I only left him empty... and I could have sworn that I love larger than life. But I dont. And that wasnt something I was ever prepared to know about myself.
A woman looked at a picture of him with the girls the other day and just says, "He was never meant to be yours... " It was that easy for her. And I'll let go in time. And she, she is his world when she is on his chest... without nursing his children or loving his Grandmother or holding him while he slept, counting his breaths... not knowing if he would still have air in the morning. She will just be enough.
But me, I held the world when I had him in my arms... and I cant sleep at night for trying not to taste him. I fall asleep trying to imagine I'm in another mans arms- I tell him about my day and ask him about his kids... he whispers me the stories of their hearts, bigger than continents and we laugh a little... but by 3 am I'm back in his arms and alone. If I could just wake up 1 day a week and not smell him on my skin it would be a gift... But every night, i find him in my dreams.
I doubt I haunt him- not because I'm forgettable, but because he doesnt invest. And I sold myself that cheap for that long.
That night in the back yard, on the air mattress, under the stars- candles burnt to the ground... I lost myself as an individual. I dont know how to un-fuse from that abandon. I just dont know whats left of me that doesnt love him.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
the kiss
I have been kissed on the forehead once, and only once, during the deed.
Fathers Day, 2007.
And of all the moments that Ive had- enjoyed- remember-
that will maybe be one of the most sacred.
He loves me.
And that kiss - that afternoon will always confirm it.
I came for him,
deep inside of me.
Ive never cum from that place before or since.
It was the kiss.
I'm a forehead kisser.
He killed me with my own love.
Fathers Day, 2007.
And of all the moments that Ive had- enjoyed- remember-
that will maybe be one of the most sacred.
He loves me.
And that kiss - that afternoon will always confirm it.
I came for him,
deep inside of me.
Ive never cum from that place before or since.
It was the kiss.
I'm a forehead kisser.
He killed me with my own love.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
knees
February 25th, 2003.
- on my knees in the kitchen,
begging a mans addiction
‘feed my throat a promise’
and he finished without even a kiss.
a lie never tasted so damned good.
- on my knees in the kitchen,
begging a mans addiction
‘feed my throat a promise’
and he finished without even a kiss.
a lie never tasted so damned good.
truths
At times ive been such a hypocrite I don’t know how I could look in the mirror- I asked for more honesty than I could personally give… and expected more commitment and growth than I had demonstrated- so being alone- for a looong time- its to correct that about myself.
All the ways that I’m fair and giving- they don’t undo the places I’m selfish and want more than my share.
My heart has been serving dual masters- but not me. And the truth is- its served both greed and lust… but self? Not self. And That man I love, he serves himself. He wasn’t while he was with me, but that he just claimed a life for himself- it was right. He will have to live with how he went about it- but he is right to let me go and find his own life.
There are truths I’ll never tell- the harm would be too great; but I will rewind myself to back when I served loyalty and faithfulness before anything else.
I have accountability to my inner circle. I always have. And ive shifted some relationships this past year in a huge effort toward my actions finally honoring my heart…
I’ve always called myself an open book. It will only be more true now. Ive made my apologies where I havent lived up to my standards with people… and I’m looking forward to this change.
On the other side, the love is going to be better… and Jill will have a new album out… and she will sing songs about renewal… and we’ll all be painting my new house to her wisdoms… the food will hit the spot and we will laugh into all hours of the morning, falling into beds of future...
loved.
All the ways that I’m fair and giving- they don’t undo the places I’m selfish and want more than my share.
My heart has been serving dual masters- but not me. And the truth is- its served both greed and lust… but self? Not self. And That man I love, he serves himself. He wasn’t while he was with me, but that he just claimed a life for himself- it was right. He will have to live with how he went about it- but he is right to let me go and find his own life.
There are truths I’ll never tell- the harm would be too great; but I will rewind myself to back when I served loyalty and faithfulness before anything else.
I have accountability to my inner circle. I always have. And ive shifted some relationships this past year in a huge effort toward my actions finally honoring my heart…
I’ve always called myself an open book. It will only be more true now. Ive made my apologies where I havent lived up to my standards with people… and I’m looking forward to this change.
On the other side, the love is going to be better… and Jill will have a new album out… and she will sing songs about renewal… and we’ll all be painting my new house to her wisdoms… the food will hit the spot and we will laugh into all hours of the morning, falling into beds of future...
loved.
Friday, September 5, 2008
love ridden- fiona apple
Love ridden
I've looked at you
With the focus I gave to my birthday candles
I've wished on the lidded blue flames
Under your brow
And baby, I wished for you
Nobody sees when you are lying in your bed
And I wanna crawl in with you
But I cry instead
I want your warm, but it will only make
Me colder when it's over, So I can't tonight, baby
No, not "baby" anymore -
if I need youI'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
My hand won't hold you down no more
The path is clear to follow through
I stood too long in the way of the door
And now I'm giving up on you
No, not "baby" anymore- if I need you
I'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
No, not "baby" anymore- if I need you
I'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
I've looked at you
With the focus I gave to my birthday candles
I've wished on the lidded blue flames
Under your brow
And baby, I wished for you
Nobody sees when you are lying in your bed
And I wanna crawl in with you
But I cry instead
I want your warm, but it will only make
Me colder when it's over, So I can't tonight, baby
No, not "baby" anymore -
if I need youI'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
My hand won't hold you down no more
The path is clear to follow through
I stood too long in the way of the door
And now I'm giving up on you
No, not "baby" anymore- if I need you
I'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
No, not "baby" anymore- if I need you
I'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
itch
She wanted to call him so bad her fingers were itching.
Just to ask how his first day of classes was.
To encourage him. But she knew better.
Just for the fact that hearing his breath hit the phone
and the image of his tongue behind his teeth-
it would make her fall in love again.
And this 1100 miles was supposed to be the end.
She penned her heart on the edge of a brown box
and rest in what she imagined her best friends arms.
Said her goodnights to his memory and
wept.
August 26th, 2008
Just to ask how his first day of classes was.
To encourage him. But she knew better.
Just for the fact that hearing his breath hit the phone
and the image of his tongue behind his teeth-
it would make her fall in love again.
And this 1100 miles was supposed to be the end.
She penned her heart on the edge of a brown box
and rest in what she imagined her best friends arms.
Said her goodnights to his memory and
wept.
August 26th, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
ironin things out
He said- “after all these years you’d think you’d’ve learned to iron…
Hm? To me, after all these years, Love might have learned to talk in a straight line.
But that’s just me.
I still cant iron for shit- however you can hold me to my word… and those last weeks, oh he held me to my word. After he left me on the side of the road all night I told him “Fine, you want me out- ill go!” and while I tried to find somewhere for the girls and myself… every time I found it hard to get out with three kids in less than a week- he would say, “I’m asking you to keep your word…”
I’m good for my word. I’m gone. Not by the end f July… It took me 3 extra weeks to get to Texas. But we are gone- and he has his life to himself- and maybe her love will iron his shirts for him- and cook his dinners and do his wash and massage his feet and suck his…..
But I’ll be over here where they talk in straight lines- love requires no ironing here. ( unless it might be to iron out the lies.) Perhaps if one talked in straighter lines there’d be less to iron out.
No?
Hm? To me, after all these years, Love might have learned to talk in a straight line.
But that’s just me.
I still cant iron for shit- however you can hold me to my word… and those last weeks, oh he held me to my word. After he left me on the side of the road all night I told him “Fine, you want me out- ill go!” and while I tried to find somewhere for the girls and myself… every time I found it hard to get out with three kids in less than a week- he would say, “I’m asking you to keep your word…”
I’m good for my word. I’m gone. Not by the end f July… It took me 3 extra weeks to get to Texas. But we are gone- and he has his life to himself- and maybe her love will iron his shirts for him- and cook his dinners and do his wash and massage his feet and suck his…..
But I’ll be over here where they talk in straight lines- love requires no ironing here. ( unless it might be to iron out the lies.) Perhaps if one talked in straighter lines there’d be less to iron out.
No?
Sunday, August 31, 2008
shoes
Your just too young to understand what it means when a man loses himself in you so close to what was- his kids or her. You may be a perfectly sweet girl- but you will Never fill my shoes or theirs.
haunted
His mouth was fresh-
but when his lips were misaligned to mine-
i knew he was closing his eyes to another.
And i pressed him harder to the frame of the door
and forced him back to me-
for only those minutes.
And she may be younger
or a flavor all her own-
but even these thousand miles
wont bless him with the goodbye promised
and he will spend eternity
haunted by my voice.
but when his lips were misaligned to mine-
i knew he was closing his eyes to another.
And i pressed him harder to the frame of the door
and forced him back to me-
for only those minutes.
And she may be younger
or a flavor all her own-
but even these thousand miles
wont bless him with the goodbye promised
and he will spend eternity
haunted by my voice.
beast
I was feeding a monster i called want
when she was nothing more than insecurity
and my thirst had been searching
for a beast only i could uncloth.
I would come to call her confident.
when she was nothing more than insecurity
and my thirst had been searching
for a beast only i could uncloth.
I would come to call her confident.
lifetimes
I bathed in his words for Hours- even not hearing him speak these months- his breath touched my skin like it was pressed against my ear only last night and i caressed the syllables of his need like the face of our child and when i blinked- his affections returned to me as whole as our life has been these 230 plus years- i could hear his daughters' laughter in the thought of his eyes and the miles that would become between fell away and we knew this newer love like we had never skipped a beat. I stood grateful for our lifetimes... for knowing we would have yet another.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
the house that love built
She left 'the house that love built' on a Friday in August- She beat the sun out of bed and ran for a window to breath- the thought of actually going nearly suffocated her in her sleep…
Someone had told her that when the pain gets bad enough you’d chew through your own leg to get out of the trap and so she left her left shoe next to the front door just so he wouldn’t forget she had been there- as if the walls she’d painted or floors she’d danced on ever could…
Having overstayed her welcome nearly 12 years- all of 4,365 days, 104,760 hours, 3,285,600 minutes + infinite seconds, heartbeats and breaths- inhaled and held…
she would quietly slip out that door and leave him with love.
Over the years he would come to find all the little notes she taped behind the furniture and under carpets… Their story would haunt him for years… and while there would be days he wanted to burn her words, there would be others that her little stories left him with tears for the memories…
Her hands had touched every piece of ‘the house that love built’, its another’s laughter that would fill it.
Someone had told her that when the pain gets bad enough you’d chew through your own leg to get out of the trap and so she left her left shoe next to the front door just so he wouldn’t forget she had been there- as if the walls she’d painted or floors she’d danced on ever could…
Having overstayed her welcome nearly 12 years- all of 4,365 days, 104,760 hours, 3,285,600 minutes + infinite seconds, heartbeats and breaths- inhaled and held…
she would quietly slip out that door and leave him with love.
Over the years he would come to find all the little notes she taped behind the furniture and under carpets… Their story would haunt him for years… and while there would be days he wanted to burn her words, there would be others that her little stories left him with tears for the memories…
Her hands had touched every piece of ‘the house that love built’, its another’s laughter that would fill it.
Friday, August 29, 2008
perception
perception
She took the first blow to her eye swollen fat and round,
and as she walked around with a bent picture for her view
she leaned a little into the ache maybe-
or toward the sun I’m not sure which.
if it were sarcasm, perhaps her bones would not have snapped;
but with
each blow ‘ the seriously she takes herself’
chipped away at what she knows and hospitality
became a four letter word for done
She showed up a bit emaciated
from starving for something honest
feeding on the crumbs of efforts unmet
she walked along on the road to ‘why’ for a few miles
and I found her at my door-
looking a bit mangled from her inner war
As I bathed her clean, she quipped, “But you should see the other guy”
I imagined him upright in a chair bound
but with his tongue cut out for his misuse of a well landed word
that for years she had taken like friendly fire-
I wanted to nurture her like a mother,
pull the covers up under her chin and watch her sleep-
be it to dreams of 'the battle at friend’
and while there is blood in the water and she grasps a knot of his hair in her fist
She will still have an ear for your gifts, be them music or your truth
She told me,
“ There is a hole in my lip-
my perception spills from it like a breaking damn."
and she slept.
-amy lynn
july 18, 2008
She took the first blow to her eye swollen fat and round,
and as she walked around with a bent picture for her view
she leaned a little into the ache maybe-
or toward the sun I’m not sure which.
if it were sarcasm, perhaps her bones would not have snapped;
but with
each blow ‘ the seriously she takes herself’
chipped away at what she knows and hospitality
became a four letter word for done
She showed up a bit emaciated
from starving for something honest
feeding on the crumbs of efforts unmet
she walked along on the road to ‘why’ for a few miles
and I found her at my door-
looking a bit mangled from her inner war
As I bathed her clean, she quipped, “But you should see the other guy”
I imagined him upright in a chair bound
but with his tongue cut out for his misuse of a well landed word
that for years she had taken like friendly fire-
I wanted to nurture her like a mother,
pull the covers up under her chin and watch her sleep-
be it to dreams of 'the battle at friend’
and while there is blood in the water and she grasps a knot of his hair in her fist
She will still have an ear for your gifts, be them music or your truth
She told me,
“ There is a hole in my lip-
my perception spills from it like a breaking damn."
and she slept.
-amy lynn
july 18, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
cracked rear view
Today was the first time I let myself cry. I didn't look back.. Maggie said don't even look in the rearview- so I didn't… It was more like running for my life. We had a good drive and an even better weekend. Kim has been more than hospitable and she is taking good care of us. Sam turned off our phones the day before we left, so Joaline and Shad kindly turned them back on for us…
Everyone showed up to help us pack up the truck and trailer. Jorge and my dad were elbow to elbow… got it knocked out in under an hour. Everyone brought great food!! Yum! I only got to smell it- I didn't have time to eat. They gave us a beautiful send off.
Sam on the other hand- didn't come home to say goodbye to his girls. He saw them for about 5 minutes earlier and left… after spending the entire day running around with Ms. Alicia. So the kids didn't get to say goodbye to him…
And maybe that makes it easier to leave. I don't know. For him maybe, but the girls still hold out for their dad- no matter what he does.
It's a bit sticky here and the rain has been nice… We are all piled in Jades room and the kids are happy as clams to do it. It wont be long before we will be on her last nerve… so I just hope we keep the house clean enough and the food on the table…
We are sad to leave our friends and family back in Arizona. But this became a matter of survival. As long as I put one foot in front of the other, every day- the opportunities are better here. I want to live to my potential finally and not be clouded by the emotion of past relationships. Sam is not the only love I leave behind…
Putting these kids first, will sadly be a change for me. I am embarrassed to say, I have put their father first all of these years… I guess I hoped their needs just fell into place in all of that. I hear they are some pretty great kids, but I want them to be even more of themselves by the end of this…
Please stay in touch. We are sad to travel so far- as good as it is for us- and we just miss our people!!
Muah!! A.
( PS, I am no longer in possession of the booty chair- its been willed to Mike… you'll have to go nap there. And someone PLEASE feed Trin!)
Everyone showed up to help us pack up the truck and trailer. Jorge and my dad were elbow to elbow… got it knocked out in under an hour. Everyone brought great food!! Yum! I only got to smell it- I didn't have time to eat. They gave us a beautiful send off.
Sam on the other hand- didn't come home to say goodbye to his girls. He saw them for about 5 minutes earlier and left… after spending the entire day running around with Ms. Alicia. So the kids didn't get to say goodbye to him…
And maybe that makes it easier to leave. I don't know. For him maybe, but the girls still hold out for their dad- no matter what he does.
It's a bit sticky here and the rain has been nice… We are all piled in Jades room and the kids are happy as clams to do it. It wont be long before we will be on her last nerve… so I just hope we keep the house clean enough and the food on the table…
We are sad to leave our friends and family back in Arizona. But this became a matter of survival. As long as I put one foot in front of the other, every day- the opportunities are better here. I want to live to my potential finally and not be clouded by the emotion of past relationships. Sam is not the only love I leave behind…
Putting these kids first, will sadly be a change for me. I am embarrassed to say, I have put their father first all of these years… I guess I hoped their needs just fell into place in all of that. I hear they are some pretty great kids, but I want them to be even more of themselves by the end of this…
Please stay in touch. We are sad to travel so far- as good as it is for us- and we just miss our people!!
Muah!! A.
( PS, I am no longer in possession of the booty chair- its been willed to Mike… you'll have to go nap there. And someone PLEASE feed Trin!)
Thursday, August 14, 2008
language
language does not have a word for the beyond love between some friends.
even to sign it you would have to pair anguish bliss and love in 6 syllables in a heap, yet wrapped snug in peace- neck raised to the sun.
and as my eyes sting, burning the place his lashes would rest at my temples, when I stood in his arms at the end of long days, filled with less words than notions- when we found no need to speak-
I am amazed that in 20 years we could have packed this place to the gills with understanding that never needed words.
If I never say his name again, the universe would not forget the prayers my dreams beg for him and he walks taller for my efforts. (but then, it was always effortless.)
Space will take action- where love never required it.
when you love someone more than whatever 'in love' is- you don't mess that up.
he says I loved him better than anyone in his life. called it Royalty.
I can only hope that time will be a bridge never burned by my goodbye.
even to sign it you would have to pair anguish bliss and love in 6 syllables in a heap, yet wrapped snug in peace- neck raised to the sun.
and as my eyes sting, burning the place his lashes would rest at my temples, when I stood in his arms at the end of long days, filled with less words than notions- when we found no need to speak-
I am amazed that in 20 years we could have packed this place to the gills with understanding that never needed words.
If I never say his name again, the universe would not forget the prayers my dreams beg for him and he walks taller for my efforts. (but then, it was always effortless.)
Space will take action- where love never required it.
when you love someone more than whatever 'in love' is- you don't mess that up.
he says I loved him better than anyone in his life. called it Royalty.
I can only hope that time will be a bridge never burned by my goodbye.
Monday, May 26, 2008
ego
What spins my head only bruises your ego-
And you call it a wound.
Dressed in a bowtie and tails maybe-
dancing with the wall flower
Caught in a bathroom stall.
But me, I am left fishing what’s left of
The instrument others may call heart-
I affectionately refer to as air-
out of the sewer
as if bringing in the catch of a lifetime
Somehow laughing.
The punch line of yet another tasteless joke,
Masquerading as my choices.
The sense it never makes starts flooding me
And being filled with the knowing is my warmth.
I trace the last letter of the word crazy
Over and over and over…
Until sleep creeps in my window
In tired haggard like a long lost friend
and I embrace him
With a little iced tea and a walk on the board.
Ah, when life was simpler.
Before the wet of your mouth filled mine like the comforting taste of home
as I discern the flavors of the breakfast she fed you
After you rolled out of her bed at 4am…
I always served you tea.
And you call it a wound.
Dressed in a bowtie and tails maybe-
dancing with the wall flower
Caught in a bathroom stall.
But me, I am left fishing what’s left of
The instrument others may call heart-
I affectionately refer to as air-
out of the sewer
as if bringing in the catch of a lifetime
Somehow laughing.
The punch line of yet another tasteless joke,
Masquerading as my choices.
The sense it never makes starts flooding me
And being filled with the knowing is my warmth.
I trace the last letter of the word crazy
Over and over and over…
Until sleep creeps in my window
In tired haggard like a long lost friend
and I embrace him
With a little iced tea and a walk on the board.
Ah, when life was simpler.
Before the wet of your mouth filled mine like the comforting taste of home
as I discern the flavors of the breakfast she fed you
After you rolled out of her bed at 4am…
I always served you tea.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
out and proud
Actually, what I meant to say was a bit more direct than that-
What I mean is- How is it that people can stand on religious principle when it comes to whom one loves regarding body parts- yet, throw doctrine out the window for say- fornication or drinking or being unequally yoked ( as if that actually pertains exclusively to what religion you were born into when I like to believe it can as well mean ground as common as intelligence, beit emotional or intellect)
So- I personally don't feel that a government that kills innocent people for a lie- should care if men are bonin' men or women are munchin' carpet. WTF? No really- what kind of effing hypocrisy are we subscribing to?
Do we really care if two people who love eachother want to have hot, nasty, sex in their shower for the rest of their lives? ( or until the next one comes along just like the rest of us do…) Actually- I don't give a rats ass who you are bonin! I do get turned on by the thought that you're doing it well tho. I think the world could use a hell of a lot more damn good, mind blowing sex.
That's all I was getting at. Why do we care?
( A guy actually told me the other day that he thought legalizing gay marriage would be bad for the economy and the government needs to put a stop to this shit right now... He is a gay basher, but he just tried to package it in a way that might make it seem it wasn't a prejudice, but a public service. )
I get excited when I see these baby steps- but I get infuriated that the politics of gay rights is even in our vocabulary when we do have a separation of church and state and people aren't walking around all in a huff about the other 612 mosaic laws in the Old Testament. ( No there weren't just 10.) Hey- law number 287 says women can't wear pants; I thought ALL sin was the same in the eyes of God.
I'm just sayin.
What I mean is- How is it that people can stand on religious principle when it comes to whom one loves regarding body parts- yet, throw doctrine out the window for say- fornication or drinking or being unequally yoked ( as if that actually pertains exclusively to what religion you were born into when I like to believe it can as well mean ground as common as intelligence, beit emotional or intellect)
So- I personally don't feel that a government that kills innocent people for a lie- should care if men are bonin' men or women are munchin' carpet. WTF? No really- what kind of effing hypocrisy are we subscribing to?
Do we really care if two people who love eachother want to have hot, nasty, sex in their shower for the rest of their lives? ( or until the next one comes along just like the rest of us do…) Actually- I don't give a rats ass who you are bonin! I do get turned on by the thought that you're doing it well tho. I think the world could use a hell of a lot more damn good, mind blowing sex.
That's all I was getting at. Why do we care?
( A guy actually told me the other day that he thought legalizing gay marriage would be bad for the economy and the government needs to put a stop to this shit right now... He is a gay basher, but he just tried to package it in a way that might make it seem it wasn't a prejudice, but a public service. )
I get excited when I see these baby steps- but I get infuriated that the politics of gay rights is even in our vocabulary when we do have a separation of church and state and people aren't walking around all in a huff about the other 612 mosaic laws in the Old Testament. ( No there weren't just 10.) Hey- law number 287 says women can't wear pants; I thought ALL sin was the same in the eyes of God.
I'm just sayin.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
skipping in the player
A lot of what they had left of one another
would skip in the player for years
blaring every word
of songs that remembered when
and better yet
where.
she climbed inside her favorite pair of denim jeans.
the ones that felt like the beach on a mid- 80's day.
(that she used to wear with her St. Elizabeth's sweatshirt as some homage to Dead Poets Society…)
it can still smell like home although it's been washed 1279 times.
and when she reaches down deep to tuck in her pockets,
she remembers what the tips of her fingers kiss.
-a torn envelope, folded and soft from how long itd been snuck away,
waiting for tears to well and run-
' eggs, French bread, berries, oranges for juicing, lime…'
Look. He's never going to look at the world the same.
And she? She's never going to write the same.
And he will always be code, for peace. And she will always be code for liberation…
and they will always be one anothers acceptance.
But they are all grown now.
She will be published again…
and when she writes for him, he will be able to find himself in every word she crafted for the betterment of his thinking,
or feeling.
He has always known who he is to her.
They have mouths that seek one anther out…
and ears that listen for the pitch of the other on busy city streets…
and hearts that run away in the race of knowing they are known.
Have you ever been REALLY known?
He knows her.
Better than anyone.
Funny- in 1995, he told her he didn't want to know her better than anyone.
I think it was just his taking for granted she would always be there.
Good food, laughs-
damn they laugh-
lots of love and the stories?
they have never not been a part of the others story.
But the truth is, you have to be true to what you are.
We all do.
Sometimes what you are
is over.
She saved the grocery list slipped into the corner of a picture frame.
Remembered the last time he kissed her face.
Cried for longer than a friend should have to…
and decided to let go.
Sometimes letting someone go while its still so good is the best way to do it.
Love waits.
Maybe not romantic love, so much.
But a friend that's your brother- that love waits. It grows.
It remembers only the best with time
and it forgives the worst
as it understands the paces that,
arm in arm,
delivered us to here.
And of course the way they smell when you hug them-
it never leaves.
ever.
would skip in the player for years
blaring every word
of songs that remembered when
and better yet
where.
she climbed inside her favorite pair of denim jeans.
the ones that felt like the beach on a mid- 80's day.
(that she used to wear with her St. Elizabeth's sweatshirt as some homage to Dead Poets Society…)
it can still smell like home although it's been washed 1279 times.
and when she reaches down deep to tuck in her pockets,
she remembers what the tips of her fingers kiss.
-a torn envelope, folded and soft from how long itd been snuck away,
waiting for tears to well and run-
' eggs, French bread, berries, oranges for juicing, lime…'
Look. He's never going to look at the world the same.
And she? She's never going to write the same.
And he will always be code, for peace. And she will always be code for liberation…
and they will always be one anothers acceptance.
But they are all grown now.
She will be published again…
and when she writes for him, he will be able to find himself in every word she crafted for the betterment of his thinking,
or feeling.
He has always known who he is to her.
They have mouths that seek one anther out…
and ears that listen for the pitch of the other on busy city streets…
and hearts that run away in the race of knowing they are known.
Have you ever been REALLY known?
He knows her.
Better than anyone.
Funny- in 1995, he told her he didn't want to know her better than anyone.
I think it was just his taking for granted she would always be there.
Good food, laughs-
damn they laugh-
lots of love and the stories?
they have never not been a part of the others story.
But the truth is, you have to be true to what you are.
We all do.
Sometimes what you are
is over.
She saved the grocery list slipped into the corner of a picture frame.
Remembered the last time he kissed her face.
Cried for longer than a friend should have to…
and decided to let go.
Sometimes letting someone go while its still so good is the best way to do it.
Love waits.
Maybe not romantic love, so much.
But a friend that's your brother- that love waits. It grows.
It remembers only the best with time
and it forgives the worst
as it understands the paces that,
arm in arm,
delivered us to here.
And of course the way they smell when you hug them-
it never leaves.
ever.
Friday, March 28, 2008
on the road again
The kids had their last family picnic at Tarwater today. It is going to be terribly hard to leave this school. I’ve never been so in love with a staff or community in my life! We just left a picnic where our Principal was flipping burgers on an outdoor barrel grill for 800 students and their families! We are on a first name basis with nearly every person on that green and they all have amazing, respectful and considerate children.
At an assembly yesterday, where Nazy got a Math Award and Addy got a Community Service Award and her name put on a plaque at the school for her Humanitarian involvements this year, Mr. Hensley ( The Principal and my former Boss when I worked at the school) said that we have the most recognized kids in the district because they have such ontop of it and involved parents. I’m sure that is a large part of it. But this school shines- academically and socially.
I tease that Scottsdale isn’t ready for me. I fear that they aren’t ready for my Green, Hippie Kids. The only Abercrombie my girls own they got second hand from Goodwill on 50% off Saturday for $ 0.99. In a world that chews your kids up and spits them out, I’m just irrationally Skeer’d for ’em.
Sam- he’s ready. He’s a closet Diva, His Mom’s a Diva. Money, or the appearance of Money matters to them more than breath nearly. Me- Um, not so much. My girls, even less. They don’t wear leather because it comes from animals. They only eat meat cause They are young enough that I can still make ’em. But they know where they stand on their politics or opinions, hands down… no question. So holding their own with Gentle Mormons has been easy. But frivolous Socialites? UGH!!
I’m sad today. It was beautiful to see all the new babies and rub all the pregnant bellies ( Mrs. C, Addy’s teacher is expecting in October!!). But once I got home I realized that’s it. I always thought when I was done with school I would be back at Tarwater, teaching. I saw my old class yesterday and today. Brandon, then Nathaniel jumped into my arms. I cried. I love those kids. I’ll miss ’em. Since I left the school, I still see them pretty regularly. I won’t be on campus anymore.
I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ve got a yardsale to host and Alley spending the night tonight. But that’s only going to remind me that I’m about to leave all of Miah’s friends too.
I’ve been trying to get Sam to have his friends over more so I’ll feel like I know what I’m going To- but he doesn’t really organize that stuff. I really needed to see Tariq and Faisal more so I felt a little more at home up there. It’s not happening the way I need it to. Jake will be closer, but I won’t REALLY get to see any more of him.
So the least I can hope is that the school becomes home quickly. I want the kids to have a family around them- and leaving the one we’ve made down here for the last 7 years is emotional enough. I don’t want them to feel lonely for common ground.
This move feels like hopping planets. I didn’t expect it to be this emotional. I had said for years I wanted the kids to have lifetime friends, like I do. I need to adjust.
At an assembly yesterday, where Nazy got a Math Award and Addy got a Community Service Award and her name put on a plaque at the school for her Humanitarian involvements this year, Mr. Hensley ( The Principal and my former Boss when I worked at the school) said that we have the most recognized kids in the district because they have such ontop of it and involved parents. I’m sure that is a large part of it. But this school shines- academically and socially.
I tease that Scottsdale isn’t ready for me. I fear that they aren’t ready for my Green, Hippie Kids. The only Abercrombie my girls own they got second hand from Goodwill on 50% off Saturday for $ 0.99. In a world that chews your kids up and spits them out, I’m just irrationally Skeer’d for ’em.
Sam- he’s ready. He’s a closet Diva, His Mom’s a Diva. Money, or the appearance of Money matters to them more than breath nearly. Me- Um, not so much. My girls, even less. They don’t wear leather because it comes from animals. They only eat meat cause They are young enough that I can still make ’em. But they know where they stand on their politics or opinions, hands down… no question. So holding their own with Gentle Mormons has been easy. But frivolous Socialites? UGH!!
I’m sad today. It was beautiful to see all the new babies and rub all the pregnant bellies ( Mrs. C, Addy’s teacher is expecting in October!!). But once I got home I realized that’s it. I always thought when I was done with school I would be back at Tarwater, teaching. I saw my old class yesterday and today. Brandon, then Nathaniel jumped into my arms. I cried. I love those kids. I’ll miss ’em. Since I left the school, I still see them pretty regularly. I won’t be on campus anymore.
I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ve got a yardsale to host and Alley spending the night tonight. But that’s only going to remind me that I’m about to leave all of Miah’s friends too.
I’ve been trying to get Sam to have his friends over more so I’ll feel like I know what I’m going To- but he doesn’t really organize that stuff. I really needed to see Tariq and Faisal more so I felt a little more at home up there. It’s not happening the way I need it to. Jake will be closer, but I won’t REALLY get to see any more of him.
So the least I can hope is that the school becomes home quickly. I want the kids to have a family around them- and leaving the one we’ve made down here for the last 7 years is emotional enough. I don’t want them to feel lonely for common ground.
This move feels like hopping planets. I didn’t expect it to be this emotional. I had said for years I wanted the kids to have lifetime friends, like I do. I need to adjust.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
as i become my mother
A few years ago I was reading a story about brothers. The descriptions of their mother really struck me. The things they held on to…. the way they felt loved by her in these minuscule little things.
It made me quickly think on my own parenting. Sam thinks of his mother as this gentle loving person. Jake loves his mom so well- he is so good to her, and she is this involved and positive person for him and all of us. Naz, my God, that girl spoils her mom every day. Joaline and her mom are best friends… and when you hear them talk about the care their mothers took to be their moms, they become heroes.
I got nervous about what my kids would remember about me. The nag the harps on them to do their chores, the yeller and enforcer of curfews, rules… spiritual principle, even if you have to eat it for dinner or go to bed hungry. ( although I have NEVER sent them to bed without dinner)
I don’t have those stories about my mom. She left when I was 5 and that’s all she wrote. I don’t have a clue how to be a good mom from any first hand experience. I rely on what I read and what I feel from people I respect. I can’t even go on instinct. With my upbringing, I aught not be trying any of that shit at home, NONE.
In analyzing other peoples relationships with their moms, I just wanted to be more conscious of what my kids are left with.
I remember that my Mom was the best colorer in the whole world. She made great Beef with wheat dumplin’s. She would eat gingersnap cookies with sharp cheddar cheese. For some reason she always smelled like flowers. She had the most gorgeous golden brown hair that went all the way to her butt. She would rip up old sheets and tie her hair in the strips like hair rollers to get it curly the way she liked it. She had the best, curviest handwriting. She knew shorthand. She had a notebook on the dryer in the kitchen. She would write a little description of each picture next to its number ( in the shorthand) so she could write in on the back of the pictures after they were developed. She kept every piece of everything from the time we were born until she left us when I was 5. -Even our baby books and the hospital bracelets, down to notes on when Daniel cut each one of his teeth. When I was 26, I called her and asked if we could see her. She said no, but she mailed it all to me. Everything she had left of us.
Funny, she put a note in the box, she said she felt it was evidence of her bad mothering because she hadn’t filled in every part of our baby books.
You know, not one of my kids has a baby book. It’s all in a bag. Well it was. One of the kids got into it a few years ago and lost the important stuff. And I yelled like a crazy woman and cried like I needed to be committed. Those memories were the most precious things I had.
My mom wasn’t the mom who stayed home and baked cookies or kissed your scraped knee. But I really needed to be that. And Sam let me. I was home with them and nursed them all for years each… My house was never perfect and I wasn’t often sweet; but today if you asked them about me… for some reason, they will tell you about my French onion soup or the volunteering I do in their classes… Miah would tell you my door is always open or that I have always loved her dad even after Leslie and their baby.
They sure forgive us a lot. As I hope I have been able to do for my own parents. I want my kids to grow up feeling they have been loved, protected and contributed to, significantly. I want them to know the magnitude that I have loved them, deliberately. I do strive to be a person who loves with deliberation.
If they can grow up and overlook the bullshit, of me not having a fucking clue what I’m doing we’ll be ok. I really did drop Naz on her head when she was 3 weeks old. I did tell Miah I was going to chain her to the porch, and I meant it- every word of it- for all of like 20 minutes. But I was dead serious for that 20 minutes and she was skeerd to blink. Addy, If I would have listened to the dr’s she wouldn’t even be here and I have to look at her and live with that every day of my life.
But I love my kids. They are such amazingly loving and open people.
Today Miah called me at 7 in the morning because she wouldn’t have a phone all day if she didn’t call just then. She said, "I miss you mom… " then she went on to tell me about her Sunday and How this Mom and her 7 year old came in and how impressed she was with this kid. She said, "Mom, she could have been one of your kids. Articulate. She spoke well. She was animated and understood art and music. It just felt good to be around her." I quipped. " Miah, you just took yourself out of the equation, like you’re not one of my kids…" She let me know she was referring to ’ for her age ’.
It felt good. It’s a gift Miah being nearly 17 while Nazy and Addy are 11 and 9. It’s evidence that the crazy and the strict has paid off. And she appreciates it in time to validate me for Nazy and Addy.
Now these kids have some great fun. It’s not all serious, rules and chores. With the music and the food and the people and the traveling we’ve done- they get to let their hair down. But they damn sure will do it while knowing how to respect people and make sure people feel loved and welcome.
When they grow up and spend their well earned money in a therapists chair, just like the rest of us- I hope that Quack can sift through the crazy to affirm the love, cause I do love them. A ton. They will be armed with many-a-stories about their crazy mom, tho. And so will their friends- cause I treat them just like they’re mine.
It made me quickly think on my own parenting. Sam thinks of his mother as this gentle loving person. Jake loves his mom so well- he is so good to her, and she is this involved and positive person for him and all of us. Naz, my God, that girl spoils her mom every day. Joaline and her mom are best friends… and when you hear them talk about the care their mothers took to be their moms, they become heroes.
I got nervous about what my kids would remember about me. The nag the harps on them to do their chores, the yeller and enforcer of curfews, rules… spiritual principle, even if you have to eat it for dinner or go to bed hungry. ( although I have NEVER sent them to bed without dinner)
I don’t have those stories about my mom. She left when I was 5 and that’s all she wrote. I don’t have a clue how to be a good mom from any first hand experience. I rely on what I read and what I feel from people I respect. I can’t even go on instinct. With my upbringing, I aught not be trying any of that shit at home, NONE.
In analyzing other peoples relationships with their moms, I just wanted to be more conscious of what my kids are left with.
I remember that my Mom was the best colorer in the whole world. She made great Beef with wheat dumplin’s. She would eat gingersnap cookies with sharp cheddar cheese. For some reason she always smelled like flowers. She had the most gorgeous golden brown hair that went all the way to her butt. She would rip up old sheets and tie her hair in the strips like hair rollers to get it curly the way she liked it. She had the best, curviest handwriting. She knew shorthand. She had a notebook on the dryer in the kitchen. She would write a little description of each picture next to its number ( in the shorthand) so she could write in on the back of the pictures after they were developed. She kept every piece of everything from the time we were born until she left us when I was 5. -Even our baby books and the hospital bracelets, down to notes on when Daniel cut each one of his teeth. When I was 26, I called her and asked if we could see her. She said no, but she mailed it all to me. Everything she had left of us.
Funny, she put a note in the box, she said she felt it was evidence of her bad mothering because she hadn’t filled in every part of our baby books.
You know, not one of my kids has a baby book. It’s all in a bag. Well it was. One of the kids got into it a few years ago and lost the important stuff. And I yelled like a crazy woman and cried like I needed to be committed. Those memories were the most precious things I had.
My mom wasn’t the mom who stayed home and baked cookies or kissed your scraped knee. But I really needed to be that. And Sam let me. I was home with them and nursed them all for years each… My house was never perfect and I wasn’t often sweet; but today if you asked them about me… for some reason, they will tell you about my French onion soup or the volunteering I do in their classes… Miah would tell you my door is always open or that I have always loved her dad even after Leslie and their baby.
They sure forgive us a lot. As I hope I have been able to do for my own parents. I want my kids to grow up feeling they have been loved, protected and contributed to, significantly. I want them to know the magnitude that I have loved them, deliberately. I do strive to be a person who loves with deliberation.
If they can grow up and overlook the bullshit, of me not having a fucking clue what I’m doing we’ll be ok. I really did drop Naz on her head when she was 3 weeks old. I did tell Miah I was going to chain her to the porch, and I meant it- every word of it- for all of like 20 minutes. But I was dead serious for that 20 minutes and she was skeerd to blink. Addy, If I would have listened to the dr’s she wouldn’t even be here and I have to look at her and live with that every day of my life.
But I love my kids. They are such amazingly loving and open people.
Today Miah called me at 7 in the morning because she wouldn’t have a phone all day if she didn’t call just then. She said, "I miss you mom… " then she went on to tell me about her Sunday and How this Mom and her 7 year old came in and how impressed she was with this kid. She said, "Mom, she could have been one of your kids. Articulate. She spoke well. She was animated and understood art and music. It just felt good to be around her." I quipped. " Miah, you just took yourself out of the equation, like you’re not one of my kids…" She let me know she was referring to ’ for her age ’.
It felt good. It’s a gift Miah being nearly 17 while Nazy and Addy are 11 and 9. It’s evidence that the crazy and the strict has paid off. And she appreciates it in time to validate me for Nazy and Addy.
Now these kids have some great fun. It’s not all serious, rules and chores. With the music and the food and the people and the traveling we’ve done- they get to let their hair down. But they damn sure will do it while knowing how to respect people and make sure people feel loved and welcome.
When they grow up and spend their well earned money in a therapists chair, just like the rest of us- I hope that Quack can sift through the crazy to affirm the love, cause I do love them. A ton. They will be armed with many-a-stories about their crazy mom, tho. And so will their friends- cause I treat them just like they’re mine.
Monday, March 10, 2008
pin me down in your photograph album
'I fell in love with your pictures the ones you took on vacation
with the camera I like to imagine a bit bulky and worn
I wanted to make love to the places you've seen like reenactments,
only I'd kiss you better and my garden would be softer, far more moist
when the cream of my skin nourished your thirst in the glimmer of morning your breath would take pause and your brush would run fast across scraps of wood to fill the fibers with pieces of us'
I would hold off the reality that not only had there never been
nor ever would there be an us-
cause for now, this is twilight
and in all the places I can hide in the dark, my favorite will be
opposing reality
( which faces me fast enough when dawn creeps over the edge of my bed)
stunningly, the light and her grace reaches
lovingly and slow into my curls and wraps a fist, gently, to secure me from the edge of my own undoing…
she has stood here in the mornings and shaken her head at my stories
clutched my hand and been my friend-
clinging to the smell of his shirt, sleeves rolled up
and so for me,
she'll watch him sleep
keeping account of every breath
peeking under his lid, rolling up the corner of his beautiful, thick lashes
pulling up a front seat to his evening travels
might he find comfort in my voice,
ah, but morning, she promises he is more haunted by my mouth.
and as if he had pinned me down in his photograph album, I will rest comfortably in the hammock of his limbs, making love to the places he has seen.
with the camera I like to imagine a bit bulky and worn
I wanted to make love to the places you've seen like reenactments,
only I'd kiss you better and my garden would be softer, far more moist
when the cream of my skin nourished your thirst in the glimmer of morning your breath would take pause and your brush would run fast across scraps of wood to fill the fibers with pieces of us'
I would hold off the reality that not only had there never been
nor ever would there be an us-
cause for now, this is twilight
and in all the places I can hide in the dark, my favorite will be
opposing reality
( which faces me fast enough when dawn creeps over the edge of my bed)
stunningly, the light and her grace reaches
lovingly and slow into my curls and wraps a fist, gently, to secure me from the edge of my own undoing…
she has stood here in the mornings and shaken her head at my stories
clutched my hand and been my friend-
clinging to the smell of his shirt, sleeves rolled up
and so for me,
she'll watch him sleep
keeping account of every breath
peeking under his lid, rolling up the corner of his beautiful, thick lashes
pulling up a front seat to his evening travels
might he find comfort in my voice,
ah, but morning, she promises he is more haunted by my mouth.
and as if he had pinned me down in his photograph album, I will rest comfortably in the hammock of his limbs, making love to the places he has seen.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
I wrote this February 24th- it was reflective of Sam and me at the time... for me maybe it evolved... for him- obviously, not so much. But the energy- or his implication which I teribly mis-read becasue its what I wanted to see... he implied, when he was holdng my face in his hands- that it mattered.
- -
"And in the end they wanted security more than they wanted freedom." –E Gibbon
I read that the other day- and in climbing inside the thought and bringing the edges of it up around my chin and trying it on for a while- I had insight… clarity, you might call it.
Maybe it isn't that they wanted security over freedom. What if they find their freedom in this security? What if the passion IS what keeps them in 'it'? Not just 'Dinner's at 5'… or the favorite, edge of the bed at 2am position.
I understand there has been an absence of words, so the light shed in the direction of this dynamic may appear peculiar and shadowed.
From where I stand- in it- up to my eye balls- perhaps the freedom brought insecurity. But I wouldn't say it ever erased the passion for eachother's lives. More, it has deepened it. It has deepened it and the glow you find on him dwells in a place below and behind structure or comfort. It pitches a tent where it stands and Becomes – over and over again, Home.
But then, the love of a good woman always does..
- -
that being said- he let me know I was never a good woman- and it never mattered. I dont do 'never mattered' so well. I was never good at 'whore'. I only ever did 'love'. Hell I cant even do 'friend with benefits'. And i sure as shit can't swim.
- -
"And in the end they wanted security more than they wanted freedom." –E Gibbon
I read that the other day- and in climbing inside the thought and bringing the edges of it up around my chin and trying it on for a while- I had insight… clarity, you might call it.
Maybe it isn't that they wanted security over freedom. What if they find their freedom in this security? What if the passion IS what keeps them in 'it'? Not just 'Dinner's at 5'… or the favorite, edge of the bed at 2am position.
I understand there has been an absence of words, so the light shed in the direction of this dynamic may appear peculiar and shadowed.
From where I stand- in it- up to my eye balls- perhaps the freedom brought insecurity. But I wouldn't say it ever erased the passion for eachother's lives. More, it has deepened it. It has deepened it and the glow you find on him dwells in a place below and behind structure or comfort. It pitches a tent where it stands and Becomes – over and over again, Home.
But then, the love of a good woman always does..
- -
that being said- he let me know I was never a good woman- and it never mattered. I dont do 'never mattered' so well. I was never good at 'whore'. I only ever did 'love'. Hell I cant even do 'friend with benefits'. And i sure as shit can't swim.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
roll those sleeves up
For years- when asked "What is the first thing you notice about people?" the answer was usually "the way they say their words." I love to hear people speak with little pieces of the places they have called home. I enjoy to hear the weekend they spent in Colorado sneak out of their mouths or the summers they would take at the shore. I could hear DelMarVa on the tongue from within 30 miles even, at times…
If you asked me today though, I would have to say the thing I notice most nowadays is the places people roll up their sleeves. Not what kind of sleeves, the cuff links or not. But did they come early to set up, stay late to tear down? Were their hands in the food? dishes? taking out the trash? Did he mean it when his hug said that I fed him better than he had been fed in a long time. Was he not only talking about the food…
Sure, my favorite thing may be to see a wrinkled white shirt, splattered with oils- or the tail dotted with ink. I enjoy to be around people who sing for their supper and speak as poets, not always through song. I may fall in love daily with random smiles, gestures and laughs. But as of late, it's straight up involvement that moves me.
It's a beautiful thing.
I tend to crush on anything that moves. I'm in love with a beautiful man. But every single day, every place I go, I find myself in breathtaking like with complete strangers. Not in any tangible or substantial way. I am just constantly reminded of the beauty of humanity. I watch both the nature and kindnesses of people and my world just seems to glow.
People roll up their sleeves and instantly become the sexiest people alive. Watch the people around you. You'll want to do coffee with 10 people a day, just for the gratitude!
If you asked me today though, I would have to say the thing I notice most nowadays is the places people roll up their sleeves. Not what kind of sleeves, the cuff links or not. But did they come early to set up, stay late to tear down? Were their hands in the food? dishes? taking out the trash? Did he mean it when his hug said that I fed him better than he had been fed in a long time. Was he not only talking about the food…
Sure, my favorite thing may be to see a wrinkled white shirt, splattered with oils- or the tail dotted with ink. I enjoy to be around people who sing for their supper and speak as poets, not always through song. I may fall in love daily with random smiles, gestures and laughs. But as of late, it's straight up involvement that moves me.
It's a beautiful thing.
I tend to crush on anything that moves. I'm in love with a beautiful man. But every single day, every place I go, I find myself in breathtaking like with complete strangers. Not in any tangible or substantial way. I am just constantly reminded of the beauty of humanity. I watch both the nature and kindnesses of people and my world just seems to glow.
People roll up their sleeves and instantly become the sexiest people alive. Watch the people around you. You'll want to do coffee with 10 people a day, just for the gratitude!
Monday, January 28, 2008
sniff's
I love the kind of love where- you sniff 'im a little... behind his ear and where his neck meets his chin... a little closer to his pitts, and of course you sniff the top of his head just before you whisper in his ear, "Yep, you smell like my baby"
that's the sweetest love. ever.
right about then, he can't help but attack your neck. but if he really loves you- he sniffs you back and affirms. "yep, you smell like 'my' baby"
Yum. that is just the best love. mmhhhm. ever!
that's the sweetest love. ever.
right about then, he can't help but attack your neck. but if he really loves you- he sniffs you back and affirms. "yep, you smell like 'my' baby"
Yum. that is just the best love. mmhhhm. ever!
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